


The feelings that we lack

by SociiallyDiisoriiented



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben is a good guy, Character Death, F/M, Rey is a veterinary doctor, family theme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociiallyDiisoriiented/pseuds/SociiallyDiisoriiented
Summary: Rey’s stomach tightened, and the discomfort she’d felt throughout the day returned. “What’s the condition?” she asked, almost scared to find out.“On the condition that you go out on a date with me.”
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19
Collections: Solo Love Letters





	The feelings that we lack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaffeinatedJediRey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedJediRey/gifts).



> I am sorry this is so late! Han and Leia kept trying to usurp the story, so I kept having to revise u_u
> 
> World is kind of a mismash between AU canonverse and our world, just because I really wanted Chewie to be a Komondor dog!
> 
> unbeta'd

When Rey left Jakku to attend veterinary school ten years ago, she never thought she’d return. Once she had decided to leave, freeing herself from her childhood fantasy of her parents returning to find her, her eyes had finally opened to see Jakku for what it really was: a Force-forsaken prison of heat and sand and misery. Why in the world would she want to return?

But return she had, two years to the day, to open a small veterinary clinic with her friend and fellow doctor, Poe Dameron. It turned out Poe had some fledging family connections himself on the planet, a great-uncle Lor San Tekka who lived in the spiritual village of Tuanul and who was Poe’s last living relative. Rey had struggled with the decision to return to her childhood planet: so many disappointed hopes, so many destructive memories of loneliness and hunger. Still, Poe had made a good point: there was no one on the entire planet who cared for animals, and too many creature companions and beasts of burden were cruelly left to starve to death or die of thirst in agony out in the sand dunes when they became seriously injured or had outlived their usefulness. 

Poe and Rey made it their mission to change attitudes on the harsh planet, and although Rey struggled with her demons every single day since returning, she never regretted her decision. It helped, of course, that this time around she had support, friends who cared and looked out for her. She had a proper dwelling this time and never went hungry.

Yet something was still missing.

She wasn’t lonely; she wasn’t hungry; she had a meaningful and fulfilling vocation. So why wasn’t she satisfied? Why did she still feel this dull aching longing and emptiness deep in her core?

* * *

“Bobbajo will be in this afternoon to vaccinate the puppies, and Crusher’s said to tell you there won’t be any need to import those antibiotics, the pole-snake died overnight.”

Rey and Rose, Rey's secretary and best friend, were going over the day’s schedule. It was Rose’s last day before her much-anticipated weekend, but days off were foreign to Rey; there had never been such a thing as a day off during her scavenger years, and the workload at veterinary school had hardly been any less gruelling. Although they technically closed the clinic for the next two days, Rey would be there all day, as usual. It was usually on these days that those who couldn’t afford the proper care for their animals sought her out. There were no appointments, but everyone knew where to find her. Rey would be in the clinic getting ready for upcoming surgeries, checking-in on her kennel clients, and keeping abreast of the latest medical research published in veterinary periodicals. But she always dropped everything to attend to emergencies.

“Oh, that’s so sad.” Despite his intimidating scowl and towering physique, Rey had never met a more tenderhearted fellow toward wild and abandoned creatures as Crusher: he’d even shown up with a litter of 3-week old skittermice on the verge of starvation one day. Rey would accept whatever spare change he had, because he would never let her refuse it, and knew she could count on him if she ever needed a hand to help her move.

“How many puppies is Bobbajo bringing?”

“Twelve.”

Rey made a note in her file, and they continued down the list.

“Han will be in with Chewie just before closing time.”

“Oh, great.” Rey made another note and pointedly refused to look back at Rose, who was staring at her expectantly.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“ _ Well _ , have you thought about what you’re going to say to Han?”

Rey sighed. She usually cherished the days Han and Chewie stopped by. Han had first started coming to the clinic with his dog Chewie six months ago, shortly after moving here with his wife; they had hit it off as soon as Han learned that Rey was also interested in mechanics. He was a professional mechanic himself and never tired of talking on the subject. He often lingered after closing time, enthralling Rey and Rose with the many wild antics of his youth.

Almost since the beginning, Han had been hinting that Rey should visit his shop. Though tempted, Rey could never bring herself to agree. She knew Han wanted her to meet his wife, Leia; Rey also knew that within the last two months, Han’s son, Ben, had arrived on the planet for a visit of indefinite duration. In short: Han wanted her to meet his family. In fact, she seriously suspected Han wanted to play matchmaker and set her up with his son. Lately, it seemed like he spoke less and less about mechanics and more and more about Ben.

At his last appointment, Han had finally asked Rey to come to his house for an informal gathering of family and friends. No hints this time. Rey had stalled, telling him she wasn’t quite sure what her schedule looked like, and she would let him know. But Han hadn’t been fooled. They both knew Rey had no social life: her work was her life, and she was at the clinic every weekend.

“Rey?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Rose gasped. “Rey, you have to go! Look, I’ve seen the holograms of Ben, too, you know. He’s gorgeous. Just give him a chance!”

Rey rolled her eyes. “It’s not just about Ben Solo, Rose. It’s...” What was it? What was that indescribable feeling that made Rey retreat every time Han took a step closer?

“It wouldn’t be ethical, is all. Han’s the owner of my client. What if things didn’t turn out well?”

Rose put her hand on Rey’s arm, and Rey finally looked over into the soft, concerned eyes of her best friend. “You know Han wouldn’t hold a grudge if you didn’t like Ben. He’s not like that. I don’t think it has anything to do with ethics, Rey. I think you’re scared.”

Rey scoffed. “I’m not scared, I--”

But Rose cut her off. “It’s okay to be scared, Rey. You like Han, and you respect him. Now he wants you to meet his family, and I think a part of you would like to go and see how you fit in with them. But, you’ve been alone for so long, you’re worried you may not know how to be a part of a family.”

"You think I’m overthinking this, don’t you?”

Rose smiled softly. “A little bit. Don’t force things. Go meet them. Let the rest happen on its own time.”

“Alright.” Rey grinned as an idea formed in her mind. Her friend was wise when it came to others, but in some ways, she was just as scared as Rey was. “If I go, you have to ask Poe out.”

Rose’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened with horror. “You can’t do that! That’s blackmail!”

Rey laughed. “Go on. You have to do it eventually. You’ve been pining after him for years.”

Rose bit her lip and thought about it. “Has he never mentioned me like that to you?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. Poe never talks about his _feelings_. I do know he’s single right now, though.”

“It wouldn’t be very ethical, you know. He’s the doctor. I’m the secretary.”

Rey laughed. “No, you’re  _ my _ secretary. Finn is Poe’s secretary. Poe has absolutely no say in anything to do with your job.”

Rose opened her mouth to retort, but Rey lifted a finger.

“Promise me you’ll ask him, or I’m not accepting Han’s invitation.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at her. “Fine, I promise I’ll ask him, but only after you’ve accepted Han’s invitation.”

Rey swallowed and saw her anxiousness reflected in her friend’s features. “It’s agreed, then.”

* * *

The day went by much too fast. By the time Bobbajo had packed up his twelve little furball demons, Rey knew she was out of time. She felt as tense and anxious as the day she finally decided to leave Jakku to make a life for herself.

Rey had just finished cleaning up the room in preparation for Chewie’s check-up when Rose knocked softly on the door. “Mr. Solo is here with Chewie.”

Rey frowned.  _ Mr. Solo? _ Rose hadn’t called Han that since his second visit. Rey threw out the paper towel she’d used to wipe her hands dry and followed Rose into the waiting room, not failing to spot Rose’s sly grin as she turned away to head to her computer.

It was not Han holding Chewie’s leash that day in the waiting room. It took Rey a few seconds to recognize who it was because she had never seen him in person before, only in holograms, and he looked different now. He had been smiling and laughing in the hologram. He was not smiling now, and it changed the look of his face. It looked longer, more angular; he looked older; he looked sad and tired.

In the milliseconds after she recognized him, a hundred thoughts about what she knew about him flashed through her mind.

Rey knew that Ben Solo had had a rough upbringing. Han had not been around much when he was growing up; the open road had been too tempting a mistress. Leia had forgiven him because she understood his wanderlust, but Ben had been just a boy and had understandably resented Han: for his absence, for making his mother cry, for leaving them to fend on their own. He fell into a bad crowd, did drugs, got into fights, then left for university, not to be heard from again for years. He was too smart and cunning for the streets and word must have gotten up the ladder. Ben got his law degree paid for and graduated top in class. He started defending Snoke of the notorious First Order against an array of criminal charges. He had been very good at it and had made a lot of money. 

Han never told her what happened, but in his thirties Ben had a change of heart and left the business. He cashed in on the knowledge he had to make himself untouchable--if anything  _ unfortunate _ were to happen to him, everything would be revealed. Otherwise, Ben didn’t want any trouble. He just wanted a normal life. A clean life. He was still a lawyer but now worked many pro bono cases, helping the homeless, the unlawfully evicted, battered women, men victim of paternity fraud. Those types of cases. 

All these stories that she’d heard over the months that she had begun to piece together, composing a fractured image of a still incomplete puzzle. The stories deliberately dolled out to make her curious, to draw her in. Stories connected to a face she’d only seen through the comfortable medium of a hazy blue image.

And now Han had jumped the gun and put her in this dreadful position, face to face with reality.

She thought Han knew her better than to do this to her.

“I’m going to kill Han,” Rey told this very attractive, but very unwelcome, client.

“Could we talk in the appointment room?” Ben Solo said, eyes drifting over to Rose and back to Rey. His voice suited him perfectly: deep and commanding to complement his tall and wide-shouldered stature. Rey could imagine him in the courtrooms, towering over his opponents, levelling them with an unwavering, dark-eyed stare. She felt intimidated herself just imagining it. “This isn’t what you think it’s about.”

Rey highly doubted he was right, but relented anyway. “Please come in.” She looked down at Chewie and smiled then because poor Chewie was not to blame for his master's manipulation. “Hi, Chewie.” She leaned down to ruffle him between the ears, but Chewie didn’t look up and grin at her like he usually did.

Chewie was a Komondor dog with the longest, thickest dreadlocked coat she had ever seen. The cords hung right down to the ground, obscuring his paws and his entire physique. The dreadlocks even fell over his eyes. How he saw through them, and how he didn’t die of heat in the blistering Jakku weather, Rey didn’t know; but Han had insisted on more than one occasion that Chewie would never let him  _ anywhere near  _ him if he saw Han pick up any sort of scissors or trimmers. Han had trimmed his coat once in Chewie’s youth, and the trauma was evidently still fresh in the dog’s memory.

Although Chewie never brimmed with energy or enthusiasm, he was always a pleasant, cheerful dog. According to Han, he was bordering on twenty years old, which was several years older than the average life expectancy for the breed.

Today, though, Chewie turned away from Rey as she turned the locks through her palms, and he walked to the room with a lethargy that startled her. It looked as though every step forward caused him monumental pain.

He immediately went for the scale when they entered the room, as was the usual routine. As Rey closed the door, Ben turned to her.

“Chewie hasn’t eaten in two days. Han’s dead.”

Rey snapped her head up, expecting a laugh--this was a joke, was it not? But there was no laughing in Ben Solo’s face or eyes. Rey took in the tightness of his jaw, the stiffness of his shoulders; she’d suspected the slight red to his eyes was from exhaustion, weren’t lawyers notoriously overworked? But now she suspected differently.

“What happened?”

“Another speeder collided with him out near the ship graveyard. Apparently he died on impact.”

“Oh no…” Rey reached out and put a hand on Chewie’s head. Now she understood. The dog was grieving for a master he had so adored. Han had often talked about his own death--he had almost died too many times in his youth to be bothered with the idea of dying; he felt like he was living on borrowed time as it was anyway--but seeing Chewie left behind in this state broke her heart.

“Han didn’t want a ceremony or anything. Mom and I will take the  _ Millenial Falcon _ and scatter his ashes out in space when she's ready. Dad’s lawyer will be contacting you shortly, but I--well, Mom thought you’d appreciate hearing about it first in person.”

Rey frowned. “The lawyer? Hearing about what?”

Ben cleared his throat and looked away from her. Was he  _ blushing _ ?

“Dad left you some credits in his will. He left your business some money, that is. He knew how important this business was to you, and he knew just how much you helped people who can't afford to return anything.”

“No one ever takes advantage,” Rey interrupted, feeling compelled to defend her clients, although it wasn't _technically_ true. But none of her regulars ever took advantage. “Whether it’s through services or words of thanks, people always give back what they can.”

Ben waved a hand as if brushing aside her comments. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right, but a business does not run itself on goodwill.” He looked at her again, pointedly. “I’m not here to argue about the way you manage your business. Dad left you some money, is all.”

“How much?”

“$500,000 credits.”

“WHAT?” Rey’s mind spun, automatically imagining all the sorts of improvements she could make with that kind of wealth, all the animals and people she could help. “That’s...Ben, that's not _some_ money. That’s _way_ too much. I can’t accept that.”

“Believe me, Dad can afford it. It's his decision. Besides, there’s just, uhm--” the discomfort in Ben’s stance and face returned--“there’s just, uhm, one caveat. Dad left these credits to you on one condition.”

Rey’s stomach tightened and the discomfort she’d felt throughout the day returned. “What’s the condition?” she asked, almost scared to find out.

“On the condition that you go out on a date with me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken out of context from Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind."  
> One of the most heartbreakingly romantic songs I've ever heard.


End file.
